Love
by 96freebird
Summary: Crowley battles his human-blood induced feelings for hunter-in-training, Jenna. As he tries to win her over he faces a mighty competitor, Castiel. But the bad guys never get the girl, right? CrowleyXOCXCastiel triangle. Rated T for suggestive and violent themes.
1. Chapter 1

"I want to be loved."

The words poured from his lips in a desperate sigh. He was in a human-blood induced daze, a whirlwind of emotion and feeling and pain, but he saw her clearly. The cool shackles pressed against his tender neck and wrists as he reached pitifully for her unmoving frame. She was unrelenting, leaning on the back wall, motionless, unfeeling, and with a pitiless gaze of cynicism and distrust. Yet, she was more beautiful to him this way than she had ever been. His eyes moved over her stoic face and down to the small sterling silver cross that hung over her neck.

She was pure. Pure despite the life she had seen – despite his touch on her life, and that tiny token was proof of it. The whole "god is gone" bedlam in Heaven hadn't swayed her, at least not to his knowledge. She remained strong, and looked the part without fail. A line of white traced her jaw from the florescent lighting, accenting her cheek bones, while the rest of her face was shrouded in shadow. He found sudden interest in the base of her neck, and tilted his head to the left as he studied her. Her prominent collar bone enticed his sight, traveling up to the curve of her neck where wisps of brown hair framed the elegant shape. He had always been a man with simplistic taste, and she was looking rather desirable at the moment. His hands involuntarily reached out, rattling the chains quickly before being painfully reminded of his confinement.

"You want it too, Sunshine." He accused as he leaned back. "But not from me."

She shifted uncomfortably at this assessment. If there was one thing that Crowley was good at, it was getting underneath people's skin. He thought to flash a smirk her way, but Jenna wasn't even looking at him, so he faltered.

"You want pretty boy's love. I want yours. Moose and Squirrel are caught in their own little brotherly love affair. And Castiel . . ." he paused, "well no one really knows what goes on in his funny little head."

With an eye roll, she muttered, "You don't love me."

"I DO LOVE YOU!" Crowley barked angrily. He heaved a few times before choking as his throat constricted from his outburst of passion. A few moments of dead silence passed before he looked at her and grumbled out, "I do."

But if there was any trace of acceptance running through her, she didn't show it.

"You're hopped up on human blood-"Jenna started.

"Then, cure me." He cut in. "Finish the job. I'll give it up. I'll give it all up." Crowley paused for a moment, considering the extent of what he just promised. Groaning against the battle between humanity and demonism that was raging inside, he thought again of holding the woman that was so with holding. Perhaps, he considered, that this elusiveness is what made her so attractive at this moment.

"You're going to give up Hell, for me?" She scoffed. "I don't love you."

And he didn't love her. At least not completely. He loved the feeling of loving her, because in a few hours he wouldn't care for her at all. When the human blood was all out of his system, he wouldn't love her. He would kill her for locking him up, for teasing him, for rejecting him, because demons feel lust and wrath and greed, but not pain and rejection. How dare she have the nerve to cause him pain? Yet, this was all his demon-twisted soul, bubbling under the surface of his emotions.

"I don't care." He muttered. Met with a skeptical look he grumbled a few moments later, "alright maybe I do."

_For now_, he thought.

They spent the next few minutes in silence. She busied herself with examining the various tools on the table, and he busied himself with examining her. She was wearing the same clothes from yesterday – she hadn't slept since his arrival. Crowley let his eyes fall on her slightly shaking hands. The dank florescent lighting washed her already pale skin bright white. The dark formations under her eyes were deepened by the shadows of the dungeon. She was lovely though. Short, yet proportionate. Freckles danced across her nose and cheeks, though they were faded in these winter months. Involuntarily he reached out to her, only to be constrained by the chains, and reminded that he wouldn't make it past the devil's trap. He was confined to that bright red circle, restrained from her – no, she was protected from him. She needed protection from him, because he would ruin her, ruin her beauty.

"You should get some rest, Sunshine." He spoke after some time.

"No," she sighed wearily and tossed a blade on the table. "Not until the boys get back."

"Waiting up for Castiel? How charming, but that daft barmpot doesn't appreciate you. He doesn't love you, Jenna. He –" A painful collision with his jaw interrupted his ranting.

She was _feisty_.

After the initial shock, he couldn't help but smile wickedly. Her chest heaved with every breath, and her face had gone red. Crowley smirked, pleased with his ability to get her closer. It didn't matter that she was angry, what mattered was that she was within reach. He quickly grabbed her hand in his, much to her annoyance.

"Listen to me, love." He murmured smoothly.

"No!" In attempting to tear her hand from his, Jenna tripped on a loose chain, fell, and smacked her head on the hard, cold, concrete floor.

Crowley felt his breathing intensify as she lay motionless, her hand now limp in his own.

"Jenna, love," he laughed nervously, but was left with no response. "Hey Sunshine, this isn't funny, come on now, get up and sock it to me." He teased, hoping to inspire her.

But still, the brunette lay unmoving at his feet, crumpled awkwardly.

Crowley thought about calling for help, but Kevin was dead, and the boys were gone. He was alone, with an unconscious girl on his hands.

"They'll have my head for this." He muttered with an eye-roll, but when he glanced down again, he felt a twinge of concern.

_You should snap her wrist for good measure. _

Ah yes, the demon inside was surfacing, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, not while there was still human blood coursing through his veins. So he continued to hold her hand, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of hers.

"You're probably fine." He attempted to reassure himself. "That bloody angel of yours will fix you up," he spoke bitterly of Castiel.

The sound of closing doors and male voices echoed faintly into the room.

_Speaking of that idiot_.

The doors swung open to reveal the Winchesters and Castiel, all looking murderous. Their eyes fell upon Jenna's still form, and then on him.

"'Ello boys." Crowley greeted with a traditional smirk. Privately, he was relieved at their presence. "Little Miss got herself all worked up and took a doozy-" he rattled off quickly as Dean rushed forward to punch him. He took quite the beating and after a few heavy blows the chair tipped to the side. He felt the coldness of the floor his cheek, but regardless of the pain, he searched for Jenna.

Sam had reached her and took her up in his arms, cradling her head against his chest. Castiel too had moved to her side, although more slowly. A whelp of anger at his lack of attention whipped through Crowley, burning his insides. No this was not anger, this was _wrath_. _The bastard couldn't be bothered to rush to her aid_.

Castiel placed two fingers on her forehead, as a concerned Sam looked down at her with worry. After a moment, Jenna's eyes fluttered open.

"Sam?" She muttered groggily. The two brothers exchanged a glance before Sam smiled shakily down at the confused girl.

"Good show boys." Crowley praised.

"What happened? One moment I was punching Crowley and," she trailed off as her gaze met his.

"Come on, kiddo, let's get you to your room." Dean said. "Sammy?"

The younger brother nodded and helped her to her feet. As she exited, she looked back at the crumpled form on the floor. What a humiliating position, how vulnerable he must have looked in that moment, but he heard her breathe his name before she disappeared behind the doors, with Castiel following right behind.

Which left the battered King of Hell with Dean. The Winchester puckered his lips sourly as he looked back at the demon, but he turned sharply and left him in silence and darkness.

In a heart-beat he was alone. Alone, and craving the presence of the girl as much as he craved another shot of blood. It burned through his veins so intensely that he let out a cry of frustration and anger, only to fall silent at the memory of her voice saying his name, over and over, like a broken record. He groaned against the cold hard floor part in anger and part in arousal. The more aggressive nature of his wicked side was beginning to regain control. As he sat in darkness, he thought endlessly of her, every feature, every word spoken, and especially the feeling of her hand, until those longing thoughts became irritations.

A/N

Hello! I hope you enjoyed this bit! If you could kindly leave a review I would greatly appreciate it. Let me know if you'd like more!


	2. Chapter 2

Jenna had lived a fairly normal life, the kind that blends into the background. Her family had not been particularly extraordinary in the small community of her hometown, but they were known well enough as a tight-knit, wholesome family. This wasn't to say that they were always with each other. Her father had been a man of business, a CEO to a successful start-up bicycle company in Portland, and her mother had been a woman of the church; she was a leader in the ministries and a counselor. Between the three of them, they kept busy, so that it was once every Sunday they would gather around the dinner table to a home cooked meal, say grace, and enjoy their family.

While her father traveled to the city every day, Jenna would attend school and soccer practice. She was an A/B student, often struggling in math. Her father would come home at six, take off his shoes, and help her with her homework, without fail. Even when his company was failing, he'd take the time to go over her work, and show her what she missed, all with a smile. However, there was one night that she could remember, in which her father did not return home at all. Around nine her mother received a phone call from him, explaining that his car had broken down on one of the back roads on his way home. But this was the only time.

It wasn't until several years later that this one night became the single most significant incident in leading Jenna to the Winchesters.

On this night her father made a deal.

He had never lied; his car had broken down on a back-road on the way home from work. A little gas station, motel, and bar were just down the road. So reluctantly, her father had left his car and walked to the station. However, he met a man along the way. Although it was summer, the stranger was dressed in a dark suit, and carried his black jacket casually over his shoulder.

"He was strangely alluring, Jenna. He radiated power." Her father had told her in his final hours.

This man offered to buy him a drink, and her father obliged happily. In the hours to come he told the stranger about his family, and about his work; his failing business. The company would be lost by the end of the year, and at this news, the stranger smirked.

"I'll offer you a deal."

But Jenna's father wasn't easily persuaded. It was only after many hours of sly manipulation that he agreed. So the deal was struck, and in ten years-time, when Jenna was twenty-four, her father was ripped violently away from the world and dragged to hell. But his company continued to thrive.

In the hours before his departure, he explained everything to his daughter, held her hand, and helped her with her math. Then, when the paranoia took over, he excused her to her room, which he had preserved while she was away at the university, and sat in silence. He listened to the ticking of the clock until it reached eight-thirty. The howls of a hell hound echoed through the halls, shaking the frames. From her room, Jenna heard the soft tapping of feet as the King of Hell entered the home, to claim a soul he acquired from long ago. For a moment, there was a deadly silence.

"Go get 'em boy." The handsomely suited man patted the large hound, and yawned in boredom.

As soul shattering screams of agony echoed through the walls, the King took a moment to trace the line of photos on the wall. He meandered through the hall until he came to the door at the end. Jenna knew he was standing there, as well as he knew she was, but as he reached for the handle, the front door was busted down. Quick as a whip he turned to face the Winchester brothers.

"Ah, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a kingdom to run." He greeted with a wink.

"Better get that damsel." He motioned to the door and just as quickly as Crowley had entered her life, he was gone.

Now, as Jenna walked idly around the supermarket, she wondered what would have happened if he had opened that door instead of Dean.

Jenna picked up a twelve pack of beer for the boys. She had never had much of an interest for the stuff herself, and in fact had thrown up the first time she had tried it in college. Perhaps that was due to the amount rather than taste because she remembered getting stupidly drunk at that party, and the hours spent on the floor afterwards. Mary, who had been her closest friend at the time, was rather intoxicated herself, and had sat by her side, giggling, while Jenna suffered through her own stupor. But that was quite some time ago.

As the young woman turned the corner of the aisle, completely lost in thought, she smacked into another person, and was sent tumbling to the floor. While she rattled off apologies and began to pick herself off the floor, the man draped himself handsomely against the shelf, a smirk tugging at his lips. Jenna stopped mid-apology when she looked at him.

"Someone's a little clumsy. Sorry 'bout that." Whether he was teasing her or not was difficult to tell, but he seemed incredibly amused. He cocked his head to take in her appearance, with no attempt to hide his curiosity.

"Um." Lost for words, Jenna stood at full height and snatched the pack of beer off the floor in a swift motion.

The two strangers stood in silence for a moment, each drinking in the appearance of the other while shoppers casually glanced their way. The honey-haired stranger flashed a fetching smile her way, causing a blush to creep across her face.

"Right, well I'm sorry for bumping into you." She managed to get out. It was unlike her to trip over words, but the man seemed dazzlingly entertained by her.

"No biggie." He popped the vowel in quirky way, and gave her a wink.

Unable to think of a reply, Jenna nodded and smiled kindly before walking past him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn to watch as she left.

"See you around, Jenna." He said loud enough for her ears only. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she whipped around; however, he had disappeared.

When she returned to the bunker, all thoughts of the handsome stranger disappeared. The fortress was quiet… too quiet.

"Sam?" She called out, but there was no reply.

"Dean?" She ventured.

"Jenna. " The voice came from behind, and she knew it was not the boys.

"Crowley." Jenna snarled and turned to face him, reaching for her gun. This proved unnecessary, as Crowley was not looking up to par.

"Well, shit." She muttered. "You've gotta lay off the humanity, Crowley." She exclaimed exasperatedly.

Crowley was shaking slightly, sweaty, and paler than usual. Looking suddenly ashamed, he stared down at his feet and pursed his lips. With a loud sigh, Jenna motioned for him to sit down and poured him a drink. When he'd had some time to relax, he addressed her.

"You should get out of the game." He murmured seriously, and placed his hand on hers.

Disgusted, Jenna stood and swatted it away. "It's because of you, I'm even here!" She shouted. "Don't pretend, Crowley. Don't pretend to care. You may be jacked up on human blood, but you're still a demon, and once you're little trip is over, there is nothing stopping you from ripping my throat out." She snarled.

"You don't understand," Crowley retorted as he stood, "this time it's different. We found bloody Cain. Cain! Do you have any idea the storm that's about to come? And that cock-up Castiel is busy with Heaven. Don't delude yourself into thinking he'd flutter over if you got hurt in the process."

"And you're better how? What would you do, Crowley? You talk big, but you'd stab me if it meant getting what you want, and then later, you'd shoot up some more, and feel guilty about it. It wouldn't be real, those feelings. Just a temporary joy ride over my suffering."

Much to her surprise, Crowley gripped her by the shoulders. Every red flag was going off inside her, telling her to run as she stared the man in the face. He was very clearly angry. A gun was within reach, but she hesitated to grab it.

"You stupid girl." Crowley roared. "No one cares for you the way I do."

Jenna felt her heart leap into her throat, and the air leave her lungs.

"The others," he croaked, "they drag you around behind them, throwing books at you on a need to know basis." The demon chuckled darkly, "You're the new Kevin, darling." With a knowing look, he added, "And we both know how that ends."

Violently, Jenna shoved him away.

"Don't talk about Kevin." She huffed.

"Fine." He sneered. "I'll leave you to your. . ." Crowley glanced around and smirked, "whatever it is you do." He finished with a shrug.

Jenna watched him exit the bunker, and in a fit smashed the glass he had been drinking from.

A/N Thank you all for reading! Please leave a review, I love hearing from you guys! Special thanks to MirrorRook, WhovianMaddie, and .73932 for the follows! I can't tell you how much I appreciate it!


	3. Chapter 3

The new Kevin. Jenna had brooded over that title for days as she sat in the library, flipping pages haphazardly. Her eyes skimmed over words without meaning for two reasons: one, Crowley had wormed his way into her head with his sly words and she hated him for it, and two, Castiel was sitting a few feet away and hadn't spoken since his arrival, and she hated him for that too.

When Castiel had lost his Grace and found her and the boys, he had embraced Jenna for the first and last time, apart from the time when he was hosting Sam's mental break, and childishly pursued shelter from Dean. He had been warm and loving in those few precious moments of humanity, but then he was gone. Dean had kicked him out because of Gadriel, and they fought heatedly about it. Now that he had his Grace back, Castiel was as oblivious and unfeeling as ever, so Jenna mourned quietly. Her feelings for the angel had only grown in the time that she had spent with the boys, tearing at her heart consistently.

"Are you upset?" He asked suddenly.

"No." Jenna gritted her teeth. She didn't need him, and she especially didn't need Crowley.

Snapping the dusty book shut with a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned her head back on the couch. Castiel shifted next to her, but she paid him no attention. Absentmindedly, her fingers fiddled with the little cross hanging around her neck. The cold metal slid smoothly against her skin. Before her life had intertwined with the Winchesters, and before she had learned of the disorder of the angels, the action would have soothed her pounding head; however, the tips of her fingers itched with an intoxicated annoyance with each stroke. Faith seemed beyond her now. How could she blindly follow a system that was as broken as the angels? The argument had played out in her head countless times, always landing on the indecisive conclusion that just because the system was broken, didn't mean that God wasn't out there, somewhere. The angels were fragmented and flawed, but that didn't mean she had to be.

The brunette snuck a glance at the angel next to her, and was surprised to see him staring intently back.

"Castiel?"

"Yes?" He blinked.

"Can I help you with something?"

For a moment, the angel didn't speak, and looked like he was trying to figure out how to say something. His brow furrowed, and he frowned in a way that Jenna found adorable. She quickly blinked away the unruly butterflies batting around her stomach, shifting so that she was facing the troubled man. Castiel awkwardly scooted closer to her and gingerly took her hands in his. His breath tickled her face with the close proximity, causing heat to prickle at her cheeks.

"You're very faithful." He rumbled, catching her off guard. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I know it must be very difficult."

"It's not quite what I expected." Jenna breathed and offered a shaky smile. The angel nodded regretfully.

"I imagine so. I hear you pray at night." He paused. "We all do, my brothers and sisters I mean."

How embarrassing, she thought.

"You are admired and held in high regards for your loyalty to Heaven." He offered.

Jenna thought that her mother would be proud in this moment, having a daughter who was regarded highly by the guardians of Heaven. She smiled softly and met Castiel's intense gaze.

"Thank you." She mumbled, and patted his hand lightly before turning back to her book.

Hours more passed in silence, until the boys had returned from their outing, only to disappear without a word, to their rooms. A few minutes later, Sam emerged smiling kindly, and plopped down on the couch next to Jenna, instantaneously scrunching so that his head was in her lap. Setting the book aside, Jenna braided little portions of his hair as he melted into the plush sofa. A sigh escaped his lips as she brushed her fingers down his scalp, a small smile playing at her lips. The younger Winchester had found motherly comfort in her early on, often placing himself in close vicinity of her after hunts. He needed physical contact, and from what Jenna had heard, he had never had any. Hugs were sparse with the Winchesters.

When Dean caught sight of them, he rolled his eyes and smirked.

"She didn't cause any trouble for you, did she, Cass?" The elder Winchester jested.

Castiel had been sitting on the edge of the cushion, eyes darting over Jenna and a half-asleep Sam. He cleared his throat and stood.

"Jenna has never caused me trouble." He confirmed with a small smile, and in a blink of an eye, he was gone.

"How was your hunt?" Jenna asked, and tried to ignore the sudden flush of red that appeared on her cheeks.

"Fine." Dean shrugged.

As he settled in with a beer, Sam gripped her calf lightly. No doubt he was thinking of Kevin, or of Gadriel. Jenna understood his need for security more than ever now. She couldn't imagine the pain Sam must have been feeling, or the memories he endured. So, she carefully shifted her fingers through his exceedingly long hair, and twirled the locks, hoping to relax him. He sighed contently and shifted so that he was lying flat on his back, his gangly legs spilling over the arm rest. Jenna took a moment to glance at Dean, catching a glimpse of the Mark of Cain. The angry red whelp stood out against his fair skin like a sore thumb. Her eyes turned to Sam as he took one of her hands and held it softly to his chest. It wasn't until Dean stepped out that Jenna leaned forward and pressed her lips against his forehead.

"Relax, Sammy." She breathed against his hairline. Notably, his shoulders relaxed, and his weight increased, squishing her legs. Jenna didn't complain though, they were both stressed and in pain. If she couldn't have Castiel, she could at least take comfort in Sam. At least they shared some understanding. They had both been to college, both lost loved ones, and both wouldn't change a thing if they could. Somehow, being on the road, in the bunker, and fighting things felt better than living in innocence, and that was confusing for the both of them. Yet, comforting in that they had each other.

"No one cares for you the way I do." Echoed through her head. If Jenna didn't know any better, she'd have thought the King of Hell was whispering over her shoulder. She attempted to banish him from her thoughts, but could not dispel the faint remembrance of the smell of whiskey and cologne that tickled her senses. A prick on the inside of her cheek caused her eyes to water as she chewed recklessly. Crowley was out of the question. He was a demon, and the opposite of what she wanted. Her father had always told her to be kind to others, but she knew he'd understand her malice towards Crowley, or at least hoped he would. Jenna's nose twitched irritably as he lingered in her mind, a brief touch of heat rising to her cheeks again. She willed it away quickly.

If he was right, there was going to be trouble for the trio very soon, but this time she had a feeling she wasn't going to make it out in one piece. Sam turned again on her lap, and she quickly realized that she had stopped playing with his hair in her contemplations. A soft little sigh escaped her lips. She could leave. In fact, she was pretty sure Sam wouldn't stop her if she got up at that very moment and walked out the door, but she simply couldn't. Jenna couldn't leave Sam to deal with it all on his own, she couldn't leave Dean to do as he pleased, and she couldn't leave Castiel, because her heart just wouldn't let her.

A/N: Hey there, thank you all again for the reviews and support! I can't tell you how much it means to me! Special thanks to MirrorRook, hope, AlyssaB88, KatieMarrie, and DD for the reviews! Big thank you to those who added as a favorite, and that are following. I hope you all enjoyed it!


	4. Chapter 4

"Wake up." A sultry voice floated into Jenna's ears. Or so she thought. Upon lifting her groggy head from the thin linin sheets, she was met with comforting silence and loneliness. Her room was still in the absence of the boys, the steady taps of her feet smacking against the cold floor as she quickly grabbed a sweater and headed towards the kitchen. The frigid air assaulted every inch of exposed skin, enticing her to turn around and seek the warmth of her bed, but she refrained and continued onward to sedate her aching stomach. Jenna shivered against the cold and pulled at the sleeves of her sweater, the sudden memory of Crowley's graveled voice once more echoed in her ears. She flicked the light switch and light flooded the steel kitchen. Her fingers shoved two slices of bread, rather aggressively, into the toaster, as if the action would equally push Crowley from her pounding head.

The boys had left her alone for too long this time. She felt stir-crazy, and without any word from anyone, she was beginning to wonder if she was the only person from their shattered family left. A breath of air freed itself from her tired ribcage, whistling against her teeth. Maybe Crowley had been right. The thought teased around her mind for a while, causing her to abandon the toast. Her mood quickly shifted sour, and she marched her way to the library, fingers twitching with a new wave of frustration. Jenna needed answers. She could no longer sit around in ignorance. Her chest welled up with hot anger, licking her nerves violently, setting her off on an unexpected and spontaneous frenzy. Crowley's sly words of manipulation coaxed her rage in the back of her mind. She ripped a few books from the shelves, tossing them mercilessly to the floor. This was what he wanted, for her to go crazy with doubt, because he was a demon, and that's what they do. They cause chaos. Her hand paused over a worn green, leather bound volume.

It was supposed to be black and white. Demons were bad, and angels were good. But, it wasn't quite that simple anymore. Jenna let her fingers glide over the little cross that hung around her neck, before gripping it tight and wrenching. The thin metal chain snapped with a light sound that broke her heart. She threw the trinket away from her, expelling the lies she believed it carried. With a huff she began throwing books and scattering files that had been left about. Her anger had burned away from the outlying causes and left her bare truth. She wasn't frustrated because she was being left behind, or because Crowley was dangling Castiel's incompetence in front of her. This was about God, and how he wasn't there.

A strangled cry of grief tore through her throat as a few tears leaked from her eyes. She had lived a life of lies. Her views were torn in half and shredded before her, and she had refused to accept it until now. Her fingers brushed away the wetness on her cheeks rapidly, and she set to work on destroying what she could. Blind rage and frustration dizzied her actions. When she had properly defaced the library, she headed to the filing cabinets that hid the dungeon. The bunker was supposed to have the answers to every creature, so she pulled the tattered white box with the label A scrawled across the top and shuffled back to the library. Never pausing, she dumped the contents unceremoniously on top of the already messy floor. The cardboard hit the ground with a thud, as she fell to her knees and whisked her hands over the sprawled and cluttered folders. Hot tears threatened to spill once more as she couldn't find a single document on the angels. Frustration rumbled through her in the sound of a repressed scream.

Jenna stood and ran back to retrieve another filing box, this time with a faded G marking its purpose. She reasoned that there wouldn't be a file on God, but she dumped the next wave of papers and reports on a table in the library anyways, and continued her flustered search. Answers, she needed answers. Stinging pain notified her of multiple paper cuts, but she ignored them. When she ran out of patience with the batch of files, she tossed a few books for good measure and headed once more to the cabinets. This time she walked out with a box for D, there was no information on the angels or god, but she knew they had decades of experiments with demons. In her fit, she hadn't heard the door open, or the voices that echoed along the steel walls.

"What the hell?" Dean's brow furrowed at the mess on the library floor. Sam and Crowley were equally surprised when Jenna came marching out from the hall, her hair a mess and a large box in tow. She scowled at them when she caught sight of the bewildered trio and slammed the box down on the table, sending papers flying in all directions. The men approached her cautiously, and descended the staircase with glances soaring between them.

"Jenna, darling, don't get me wrong, I love the whole wrath look you've got going on, but what's with all the papers?" Crowely questioned.

She flipped through a manila folder, paused for a moment, and threw it at him.

Yes, she threw caution to the wind, and threw a file at the King of Hell.

Now, to Sam and Dean, this was slightly amusing. They took it as a discard for what the file held; however, when the thin texture slapped flat against the black silken suit of the King, he quickly caught it and flipped through it. Inside were the details of the experiments the Men of Letters had been doing regarding the curation of a demon. Crowley effortlessly slipped the packet in his jacket, making sure the boys hadn't seen – which they hadn't – and turned his attention back to the very violent woman. She tossed the box to the floor, adding to the frey.

"Wow there, Sunshine. Take it easy." Dean extended his hands in a steadying motion, but Jenna merely fumed.

"Where have you been?" Her voice wavered between scrutiny and accusatory.

It is easy, when in the throes of anger, to forget what you're really angry about, or to project that anger to someone else. Such was this case. Jenna grabbed a book from the table and swatted at Dean furiously.

"Where. Have. You. Been?" She paused between each word to get a hit in. The poor man meagerly held his arms up in defense, trying to ebb the pain before it happened. It was Crowley's turn to be amused. The demon smirked happily as she chased Squirrel around the room.

"I'm sorry!" Dean shouted over her. Jenna paused for a moment, scrunching her nose as if she smelt something foul.

"Oh you're sorry are you?" She spat. Crowley let out a bemused chuckle, causing her eyes to fall on him.

"And you!" She used the book to point at him judgmentally. He quirked an eyebrow playfully as she approached him. Her face was mere inches from his as she narrowed her eyes in what was supposed to be resentment, but to Crowley, made her look seductive.

"I loath you." It came in a deadly whisper. Crowley was never the kind for intense moments, not while there was fun to be had.

"If this is your attempt at flirtation, I'll have you know it'll take a little more romance to get me to bed." He replied cheekily. She scowled.

"You're everything that's wrong with the world." Her eyes glowered menacingly.

"I love it when you talk dirty." Crowley whispered breathily, trying to get a reaction from her.

"You're repulsive." It could have been effective, but she faltered slightly, causing a wide Cheshire grin to tug at the King's lips.

"Say it again." He ordered.

"You're repulsive." Jenna complied, but added force behind her words.

"And?" He prompted. The bunker was silent as she shifted her gaze down to the floor.

"I'm leaving." She announced as she walked towards the hall. Her fingers clamped around the corner to hold her in place as she turned. "You were right."

Uproar from the Winchester brothers echoed down the hall as she hastily packed her bag. Unbeknownst to her, Crowley slipped away from the ensured chaos that was about to unfold, a smirk deeply set in triumph. He had got her to leave. He had got her to safety. As the King walked down the deserted road, he slipped the corner of the file from his jacket, ran a thumb across it in pensive thought, and tucked it away.

A/N: I survived my first week back at college! Anyways, I would like to thank you all for your support and love! Thank you to those that reviewed, it is indescribably appreciated. I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

The crisp autumn air tugged a few scarlet leaves from their branches, sweeping them into a swirling dance as they traveled through the blue sky. Jenna entered the empty hallway, the white walls echoing with every step. Against the clean walls, she looked . . . ridiculous. The brunette was hobbling along at a snail's pace, bright colored bags hanging off her arms, some nearly as big as her, in a desperate attempt to reach her room. The dorms were neatly packed together, so that the hallway was only big enough for two people at a time, and the bags were squishing the poor girl in the dead center.

Jenna managed to squeeze herself through the narrow door of her empty room, tripped, and sent her bags flying in a colorful explosion of paper and plastic. She felt a moment of emotional exhaustion, the kind in which the person doesn't feel it until they're down, only to realize how overwhelmed they were. So, she stayed on the hard wooden floor, and picked at the finish for a minute, allowing herself to acknowledge her loneliness, before picking herself up decisively and setting to work.

She was accustomed to dorm living, and had the pleasure of setting up before the other students showed. Honor students moved in a week earlier than the rest of the student body. There were questions of course, about why she had suddenly dropped out a few years back. They were easily credited with, "because my father died," and it was the truth. Well, part of the truth. It was all they needed to know, and it was all she was going to tell. The problem with living on the road was that she didn't have any stuff. So she had hustled some pool, a skill she had learned from Sam, and bought all the stuff normal people would have.

A small satchel laid on her bare bed. This was all she had from her time with the Winchesters. Jenna winced when she looked at it. The boys were all about family, and they had graciously let her in, and she had just left. Sam was hurt of course, but he understood the desire to leave. He had given her a small lore book littered with his own notes, and said, "Just in case." Dean, on the other hand, had thrown a huge tantrum, fueled by the mark of Cain. Sam didn't argue with him, and Jenna suspected that he didn't because Dean was saying everything he wanted to, but was too rational to say himself. Dean didn't give her a present, or a hug, or even the courtesy of a "goodbye." He merely gazed at her condescendingly as she walked out the door.

Jenna blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, and hardened her resolve. She moved the satchel to the floor and began unwrapping the sheets and bedding she had purchased. Tossing a plastic covering aside, she heard a faint but familiar rustle. Her head snapped up quickly as she registered the comforting blue eyes of Castiel. He let a small smile of compassion flit across his cheeks briefly and nodded his head in greeting.

"Jenna." He rumbled.

"Cas!" She couldn't help it, she stumbled over the packages and hugged him.

The angel stiffened, but quickly placed an arm around her in reciprocation, squeezing lightly. A dry sob escaped her lips pitifully as she clutched the folds of his beloved trench-coat. He quickly pulled back and held her at arms-length, eyes wide with concern and curiosity.

"You left." He was inquisitive, and furrowed his brow.

How was she to respond? Jenna felt herself floundering for a moment, caught between an internal battle.

"You're different." Castiel pressed, and looked her over as if he could see something she couldn't: almost as if losing her faith had physically changed her.

After a moment of silence, he pressed painfully, "Jenna."

She suspected that there really must be some physical alteration that only the angels could see, differentiating between those who were in faith and those who were opposed. He ran a thumb across her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. She hadn't realized that she was crying and immediately felt embarrassed. Castiel grimaced.

"I'm sorry." He implored earnestly, and took her silence as confirmation in her loss of faith. He saw the same look in his brothers and sisters. Confusion, betrayal, and sadness was as prominent in her as it was in the angels. Instead of pushing her and asking questions, he looked about the room in an attempt to find something to cheer her up. It was refreshing that she wasn't looking to him for guidance, and he dismissed the nagging sensation of his garrison calling. He did not want the leadership that he had, but he also didn't want to be alone. Jenna had an odd gravitational air about her, causing the angel to involuntarily hover closer. As if on whim, he traced his fingertips across her cheek again, brushing away the thin hot tears that she seemed unable to stop. Suddenly caught in her watery gaze, he leaned even closer. If he had not spent time as a human, he wouldn't even consider the possibility that emotion was building inside him, but he had, and so he recognized the urge to kiss her.

"Well isn't this _touching_?" The drawled English accent held a kick of venom, causing Castiel to seize and shove Jenna behind him.

"Crowley." He growled, but the demon ignored him, conjuring up a glass of Craig effortlessly.

"I've come to talk to my little ray of Sunshine." He waved dismissively and locked eyes with Jenna, who furiously wiped the tears from her eyes as if they were burning her skin. "More of a proposal if you will." His gaze was hungry, unsettling both the angel and the human in the room. "Though, you're not looking so sunny now, love."

"What do you want?" Jenna snapped impatiently.

"I've got what you need." He smirked and winked at Castiel. "Looks like you've got an angel on your shoulder, guess that makes me your demon."

"You're not my anything." She strained.

Crowley winced slightly. "I'd like to think we're friends."

"You're no friend, Crowley." Castiel interjected heatedly.

"You're right." Crowley pressed in a husky tease, "Lovers would be a more preferable title."

"We're not that either!" Jenna exploded.

"What?" The King feigned innocence. "Darling, say it isn't so."

Castiel seemed to grow impatient with the demon's retort, and shifted so that a blade fell into his open palm. The King glanced warily towards him, but played off his concerns by picking a hair off the sleeve of his suit, and busied himself with tracing a pattern on the desk.

"Crowley." Jenna prompted.

"Jenna." He mused with a small smile. She suddenly crossed her arms and squinted her eyes in reproach, standing a little taller. Her sudden confidence intrigued Castiel, but infuriated the demon in Crowley.

_She should be bowing_.

No, that wasn't right. He shook the venomous thoughts away and met her cold gaze.

"_Fergus_."

White hot wrath ripped through him in a vehement surge. He pressed his hand firmly against the desk, activating the sigil and banishing Castiel in bright expansion of light. Crowley wasted no time in closing the distance between them, and pushed her roughly against the wall before she had time to react. At the moment, he didn't feel any remorse as she let out a cry of pain, and pressed his weight against her.

"I am a King, and you will show me the respect I deserve from you." He hissed in her ear, taking pleasure in the goose-bumps that erupted. "I deserve respect from you, wouldn't you agree, love?" He growled against her neck, brushing his nose under her ear. When she refused to reply, he griped her cheeks and forcefully turned her head so she was looking at him. "You're weak-willed. You wouldn't last a day on the racks; in fact, I'm sure you'd turn quicker than milk."

He forced her down with his will to assert his point. Perhaps if he was high on human blood, he wouldn't be as cruel, but she had triggered a beast within him. When he was using, he felt more like Fergus McCloud than Crowley, which was tantalizing and exhilarating after years of apathy as a demon. The problem with Jenna, was that she was desirable to both Fergus and Crowley, and which ever one was more present was demanding different things from her. Fergus wanted love and acceptance. It was easy enough to draw that from her, as she seemed as broken as he had been when he was human. Crowley wanted what little defiance she had, and ultimately to crush her. Reminding him of this battle by using his human name had thrown him the pit.

"What did you do to him?" She seethed in disobedience.

"Funny, I'd thought you'd given up on the feathers and halo squad. Wasn't that why you left?" He quipped.

"I left, because you asked me to."

Well, she was certainly full of surprises. In his blank daze, Crowley released her from his hold and stared at her incredulously.

"Really?" He breathed assumingly.

"Nope."

Jenna snatched the knife that Castiel had dropped, and plunged it into the demon's shoulder. He teetered back from the force, both bemused and impressed as he watched her slip from the room. Crowley pulled the blade from his shoulder slowly, and wiped his hands off. The nonchalant ritual of tidying up his suit took place before he pursued. After all, the King should always look his best. He needed only to step into the hallway to locate her.

"Yours?" Jenna jabbed a thumb in the direction of the three other demons at the end of the pristine hall. They were blocking her path with insidious smiles. The King of Hell narrowed his eyes at them, and paled.

"Abbadon's." Crowley offered a hand, and was nervous for a moment that she wouldn't take it. "Come along, love." He murmured impatiently.

Just as the demons shifted to advance, she took his hand and he snapped her close to him, wrapping an arm around the middle of her back. He glanced down at her anxious features before causing them both to disappear.

A/N: Thank you for your patience. I really hope you enjoy this chapter, and please R and R. Thank you for all the follows and reviews!


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